


A God Among Men

by OneThousandAngels



Series: Why I'm Going to Hell [1]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Double Dipping, Filthy, Gang Rape, Humiliation, M/M, Punishment, Rape, Revenge, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneThousandAngels/pseuds/OneThousandAngels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Two thoughts occurred to Miles when he stumbled upon Jeremy Blaire completely nude and about to be ravaged by a group of depraved variants. The tiny part left of Miles that was still good and whole actually considered for just a moment that perhaps he ought to help poor old Jeremy out. He had the power of the Walrider inside him after all, it would be an effortless task.</p><p>But the other part of him, the dominant part, the one that got a sick twist of pleasure from seeing him grovel as Silky Simon ran two trembling, scarred hands across the soft skin of his inner thighs…that part of him wanted to watch."</p><p>Foxpen has blessed me with fanart of this fic: http://foxpen.tumblr.com/image/119480750793</p>
            </blockquote>





	A God Among Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foxpen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxpen/gifts).



> Alright in case you didn't notice yet, this fic is probably the single most filthy, disgusting, perverted thing I have ever written in my whole life (....for a fanfic, haha). So please, PLEASE, do not read if you think you may be upset by super duper non-con, or very very kinky gross sex stuff. Pure trash straight from my brain to you, hashtag no filter.
> 
> There IS plot, sort of, but that was an accident. 
> 
> This fic is part of an ongoing series of unrelated fics called "Why I'm Going to Hell", yeah that means I'm already writing more of this crap. Forgive me jesus lol

Two thoughts occurred to Miles when he stumbled upon Jeremy Blaire completely nude and about to be ravaged by a group of depraved variants. The tiny part left of Miles that was still good and whole actually considered for just a moment that perhaps he ought to help poor old Jeremy out. He had the power of the Walrider inside him after all, it would be an effortless task.

But the other part of him, the dominant part, the one that got a sick twist of pleasure from seeing him grovel as Silky Simon ran two trembling, scarred hands across the soft skin of his inner thighs…that part of him wanted to watch. In fact, torturing Jeremy was one of the only things that had sparked any life in him ever since his death, and he wasn’t about to pass that up.

He quickly realized, within moments of deciding that he’d rather jack off on Jeremy’s face then lend him a helping hand, that he was no longer a good person. Weeks of living in the asylum had done that to him, he supposed, or maybe it was being possessed by the Walrider that had stripped him of the last of his humanity. He could feel it not just inside him, but as a part of him. They were one and same and while his dark desires swelled with enthusiasm he felt the Walrider’s encouragement as a constant influence like a little devil on his shoulder, whispering mercilessly into his ear. 

Sure, he had helped Waylon escape even while possessed, but soon after watching him drive away he found that he nearly regretted it. The rage and bitterness and jealousy that would build up inside him when he imagined Waylon Park sitting down to eat dinner with his wife and kids, taking a hot shower, fucking his beautiful wife that he no doubt loved with all his heart, was nearly enough to make him sick. And if he felt that way about Waylon, one of the only truly good people to ever come through this place…well, there was no hope for salvation for Jeremy Fucking Blaire. He could open his mouth to beg him for forgiveness and he’d probably shove a dick in it just to see him choke. 

It was so disgusting what they were doing to him that he _almost_ pitied the scumbag, but Miles wouldn’t have had it any other way. He didn’t deserve anything better than this. Besides, he probably sucked more dick than this just to get the job he’d had before it all went to shit, Miles had a feeling that he could take a little abuse as well as dish it out. 

Jeremy was an evil bastard, but he wasn’t particularly athletic or strong. He never had to physically bully anyone himself if he didn’t want to, he had people to do that for him. So, once Silky Simon got ahold of him, aided by the psychological coercion of being surrounded by angry patients, there was nothing he could really do but lay back and take it. Miles watched with silent satisfaction in his dark, glowing eyes as Jeremy flinched away from Simon’s hungry, reaching hands. And he wasn’t the only one watching, there had to be at least a dozen others in attendance, but they stood back, letting Simon have his turn with the new meat. Nobody wanted to get between them, not between Silky and his prize which he was now reverently rubbing against like a horny cat. Now that he had the straight jacket off he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself and that was the last thing they wanted to mess with. Other than that he was harmless, and so for now they let him have his fun, thinking of it as sort of an appetizer. 

Jeremy shuddered and turned his face away as Simon’s bare body pressed against him, rubbing slowly back and forth as his hands found all the softest parts of him. He could feel the tough skin of his fingertips pressing between his legs into the vulnerable skin of his taint, caressing him until he thought the soft skin there would chafe before at last his fingers slid back between his cheeks. It was the most violating sensation he could think of, but as much as he wanted to bash the disgusting bastard’s head in, he couldn’t. He’d been warned that resistance or violence would be met with violence of its own and he wasn’t about to risk making his situation even worse. Oh yes, he knew it could be worse, he’d done worse things to people than he even thought these people were capable of imagining. 

“S-s-so sm-smooth…” Simon groaned as one hand pressed painfully hard between his legs, grasping him between finger and thumb, the index reaching to not quite penetrate his puckered entrance, and the other hand running repeatedly up and down the softness of his belly. Jeremy grunted quietly in repulsion, grinding his teeth together as the delicate skin of his tummy quivered.

Miles watched with gratified fascination as another variant came closer. He wondered what he would do, but he didn’t have to wonder long. The man clearly had very definitive intentions in mind. 

“Alright, Simon, time to share,” the burly inmate said playfully as he shoved him onto his back, grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders, and maneuvered him on top of Simon so that hey were sandwiched face to face. Jeremy cried out in disgust as they were pushed forcefully together while Silky Simon let out cry of his own, clearly born of ecstasy. 

He wrapped his arms around Jeremy almost immediately and began running his hands over his body with a feverish need anywhere they could reach, while the other man positioned himself behind them. He scooted between Jeremy’s legs, grasped a plentiful handful of each butt cheek, and leaned down before sliding his tongue between them and burying his face into the soft place eagerly. Miles stared on in mesmerized disgust as Jeremy let out a loud, pitiful cry of shock and protest, but tried desperately not to squirm. It seemed every time he moved it got Simon so worked up he could hardly contain himself. At one point Jeremy bucked with a sudden, jerky motion, the muscles of his ass cheeks tensing with repulsion and denial as the variant pressed his tongue enthusiastically inside him, and it caused Simon such stimulation as Jeremy’s hips ground against his that he wailed, gripped at his shoulders, and began licking sloppily at his ear. Jeremy whimpered pathetically and tried to pull his head away from him, but he was persistent, lapping at him with his slimy tongue. Miles was sure he would cry, but to his surprise he refrained, for the time being. 

No, he didn’t see any tears in his eyes until the moment that the variant behind him leaned up, positioned himself at his wet entrance, and proceeded to shove himself ruthlessly inside. Jeremy let out a lovely shriek that echoed throughout the large cement room, and then Miles watched as a few tears slipped down his cheeks while the man began pounding into him over and over and over again, penetrating him as deeply as he possibly could. The two of them grunted and groaned like animals as they rutted furiously on the dirty floor, and all the while Silky Simon quivered and shook under them, screaming at random intervals. 

The variant finally stopped all of a sudden and thrusted into Jeremy as he came, emptying himself deep inside him with a cry of pleasure. Jeremy cried out in dismay at the feeling of his hot seed spilling inside him, but didn’t fight it. At last the patient slipped out of him and released his hips and Jeremy let them drop between Simon’s legs; it didn’t matter, he had already come, and Jeremy was tired. 

Miles thought it was a pretty good show, but he was much more impressed when he realized that the variant wasn’t finished. He flipped Jeremy over onto his back where Silky held him tightly, wrapping one arm over his torso and the other over his shoulder. 

To his credit, Jeremy didn’t beg. He swore loudly at nothing and no one in particularly, sending curses flying at the ceiling as the sex-crazed variant grabbed his thighs and spread them as far as they would go before thrusting into his sloppy hole again. He fucked him unforgivingly, holding his hips firmly in place in a bruising grip as he did so. Jeremy closed his eyes tightly and grunted in what he assumed was pain, but also probably to some degree reluctant pleasure. He could see that his dick was hard as a rock. Naughty naughty, Miles thought scoldingly as a wicked smirk stretched across his face, wondering if perhaps some small part of Jeremy knew he deserved this, even craved it. He wouldn’t be surprised if a slimy man like Jeremy Blaire secretly got off on this kind of thing, being punished in the worst possible way, desiring nothing more than complete and total subjugation. 

Or then again maybe this was simply the worse experience of his meaningless, miserable little life. It didn’t really matter either way honestly. 

Miles realized he’d been hoping for it when the man suddenly pulled out, scooted over, and pumped his cock in his hand until he came all over Jeremy’s face. He closed his eyes in disgust, letting out a deep breath that his tensed body had been holding in before wiping his face and squinting up at the man hatefully, probably thinking of all the things he would do to him and anybody he cared about if he ever got out of this alive. 

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was a little bit jealous, he wouldn’t mind having a go with his good buddy Blaire, although he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to feel it…but then again that wouldn’t really be the point, now would it? 

No. Even better, he would take him when the others were finished, when Jeremy was used up and spent, hardly able to move or speak, exhausted and unable to fight, unable to protest, and then he would fuck him until his eyes rolled back into his head and he begged for mercy. 

With this in mind, Miles looked on with a renewed sense of vigor. 

Simon was little more than a rag doll at this point and so the others took it upon themselves to show Jeremy a good time he so desperately needed. It couldn’t have been any clearer that they had a vendetta against him, something to prove, and they were none too gentle as the group surrounding him and propped him up on quivering hands and knees. He glared at them with tear filled eyes as one variant threaded his fingers roughly in Jeremy’s chestnut brown hair, yanked his mouth open, and shoved his entire cock down his throat. Jeremy moaned loudly in protest, choking and pressing his hands against the man’s hips to push him away while his face quickly turned red, but the man behind him seized his wrists and pinned them to his sides as he held him firmly in place on his knees and thrust into him, making his body jerk with the force of it. While he was pounded into by a variant from behind, the one in front fucked his throat raw, making him sputter and gag until Miles wondered if he might suffocate…but he decided to wait and see. He was sure he’d be fine. 

The other men surrounding him stayed close at hand, jerking off as they waited for their opportunity to take his assailants’ places. 

Miles wasn’t exactly…turned on by the situation, he felt very little these days, but he had the oddest sensation of an almost electrical pulse as it spread through his fingers and toes, invigorating the energy that represented what he had left of a physical form. It made him want to…do _something_ , it pulled his lips into a smirk and made his black eyes shine with life he thought had been forever lost to him. It wasn’t anger that fueled him, it wasn’t quite desire either, it just wasn’t anything that he could pinpoint and anyway he didn’t see a point in attempting to put words to the feeling, words were meaningless now. Words were the business of men. The _point_ was that he _felt anything at all_ and that in and of itself was a feat that had his metaphorical blood pumping. He wished fiercely that they would hurry up and be done with it. 

The crew had rotated and switched positions as Miles had allowed himself to dwell on his newfound state of existence and he examined the new setup with interest. He liked it better when they fucked him face to face, it seemed more intimate that way and it certainly looked, judging by Jeremy’s facial expression, to be something that was much harder for him to stomach. Yeah, he liked that a lot about the new setup. One of the largest variants now had him in the air and as he gripped his butt from underneath and pounded into him, another gentleman held him up from behind so that his back was pressed against the man’s broad chest. He was a bit smaller than both of them, smaller than most of the men in attendance (years of office work will do that to your muscular composition) and that made the situation seem even more brutal. The man at his back had him hooked under the arms and so he was entirely helpless to stop the hands of the other men as they ran over his body, fiddling roughly at his nipples, at his cock, covering him with the heated touches of strangers that all wanted him to suffer, but that had also been cut off from any form of physical affection for months, even years. With the most genuine smile Miles suspected he could even muster, he noticed that Jeremy was drooling, that his eyes were hazy and half-lidded as his senses were overstimulated from every angle. He was panting and moaning, grunting weakly with every unforgiving thrust and to his delight Miles noticed that he’d climaxed, come on himself, and was already hard again. It was the most beautiful scenario he could imagine.

The next position had Jeremy’s face pushed into the ground as a particularly vicious individual held him there and fucked him cruelly from behind. The man clearly had a temper and the others stood back as he rutted into him over and over and over again, swearing at him, forcing him to answer repeatedly that he liked it, calling him a slut, making him beg for his cock as he sobbed until finally, at long last, he was through with him. He came inside Jeremy while he was on his back and Jeremy let out a strangled, piteous whimper as his overstimulated senses forced him to come yet again. Deciding against his better judgement Miles thought that Jeremy had had enough and supposed it would be alright if he came to his “rescue” now, or maybe he’d just gotten sick of waiting, he wasn’t sure. 

The smoke-like composition of his body crept through the air with the greatest of ease like the gentle rolling in of an ominous black fog, scattering the variants like a panicked collection of mice. At least he had that benefit; he no longer feared Chris Walker or the Groom. He no longer feared anyone. His last days of life had been filled with nothing _but_ fear. 

He descended upon Jeremy, but as their eyes met he was disappointed to find that they had that in common: a lack of fear. If anything he looked relieved. No, that was _not_ what he _wanted_ , how dare he? Jeremy thought that the Walrider was going to kill him and was pleased about it, his face slack in a peaceful expression as he stared up at Miles too weak to move. 

That left Miles feeling…uncomfortable. Not _guilty_ , but…no, yeah, guilty. He felt fucking _guilty_ that this piece of shit thought he was going to save him when in reality he’d had something much worse planned for him. He stared down at him and moved closer, examining his expression with thoughtful curiosity as he hovered just above. And then the prick fucking smiled at him, just a bit, just enough for it to be recognizable as a smile. 

He chuckled hoarsely and choked, “Miles…Miles Upshur…” He recognized him? Must have been expecting him once he’d received the email from Waylon Park…the fact that he’d been able to track him was actually kind of impressive, Miles was dedicated to keeping a low profile in all areas of his life…or, at least, he had been when he’d _had_ a life.

Jeremy was just so…pathetic. He was broken and he was used up and he was exhausted, just how Miles wanted him, but now seeing him as he stared up at Miles like he was a fucking godsend when he had intended to be his next fresh hell made him feel…merciful. Somewhat. He was still gonna make him his plaything and all that of course, but as he leaned down to scoop his limp, naked body into his arms he felt like a benevolent god. His newest groveling apostle swiftly fell into unconsciousness and so, he thought, it was for the best. It wouldn’t be any fun at all to torture a man that was blissfully unaware of it. 

He carried the bastard to the section of the ward that used to be Trager’s slicing and dicing space; _used to_ as, naturally, he’d slaughtered the crackpot doctor in the most horrifying method imaginable, though not before cutting off all his fingers, toes, and reproductive organs, of course. With one asshole down, this was the most comfortable place for resting he could think of. He laid Jeremy down in one of the beds unoccupied currently by a corpse and then left to see if he could procure some water for the poor, miserable douchebag. He wasn’t about to let him die on him, not before he’d suffered not even half as much as he deserved. 

He’d gotten a little bit sidetracked, curiously observing the remaining members of the asylum’s church as they made a sacrifice in his honor, and so it took a while longer for him to return to the “infirmary” than he’d anticipated. Upon his return he found, duh what did he expect, that Jeremy had woken up due to the fact he was being attacked by another variant who had clearly gotten the idea in his head, like the others and like himself, that Jeremy made a much better fuck toy than a businessman. The springs creaked loudly with every ruthless thrust and as Miles approached he could hear soft, breathless grunts heaving from Jeremy’s tired lunges as he winced and tried to feebly shoved off his attacker. He had to give him credit for trying, anyway.

The rage he felt as his gaze fell upon the scene was instantaneous and he didn’t spare even a second to think about why that might be before he descended upon the variant and lifted him into the air. He let out an inhuman howl as he tore the man into insignificant, bitesize pieces, splattering Jeremy and everything within ten feet of them in blood and viscera. When he was finished he casually spit out a mouthful of flesh as if nothing had happened and then floated gently back down to earth. He stepped over to Jeremy’s bedside and gazed down at him with a soft, distant expression. He stared back up at him in wide eyed, abject terror. Apparently imaging your fate and seeing it happen before your eyes were two very different things. 

Compelled by something unknown, Miles reached his ghostly hand out and softly stroked Jeremy’s cheek, an unreadable expression on his face as he considered his feelings for a moment before speaking. 

“…you are mine now…” he said in a dangerously low voice, “…no one shall hurt you but me….and I will hurt you, Jeremy.” 

His gentle threat made Jeremy’s blood run cold with fear and dread like nothing he had ever experienced before, and suddenly he wished he had the option of taking his chances with the variants.

**Author's Note:**

> No, but like really, what did you think?
> 
> Check out the amazing art our own darling Foxpen made for this fanfic!: http://foxpen.tumblr.com/image/119480750793
> 
> Poor Jeremy <3


End file.
